Letters
by lizzington95
Summary: A series of letters written between Major Roy Mustang and Miss Riza Hawkeye during Roy's deployment in Ishbal. Faint hints of Royai and Hughes being Hughes
1. Chapter 1

Dear Riza,

How are you? Have you decided what you're going to do yet?  
I'm writing to let you know I passed the State Alchemist exam. I'm now state certified. I have the pocket watch with the Amestrian seal on it and a new title. They call me the Flame Alchemist. Hardly original, but then the military isn't really known for its sense of humour. I'm a Major to boot. How mad is that, Riza? I've only been out of the academy three months and I'm already a major.

I got my orders today. I'm being sent to Ishbal with some other State Alchemists next week. I don't know what the mail's like out there, so please don't worry too much if you don't hear from me for a while. Don't worry about me, Riza. Some of the other Alchemists I've met have been on battlefields before. They told me that the higher ups try to protect us as much as possible, because apparently we're valuable. So you see I probably won't end up getting injured or anything just yet.

I hope you're doing ok. Please write back.

Roy


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Roy,

Congratulations on passing the Exam. I suppose I shall have to get used to calling you Major Mustang instead of Mister Mustang now. How long did it take you before you broke your watch for the first time?

I know it's a silly thing to ask of a soldier, but please be careful when you get to Ishbal. It would be a tremendous waste if you were to get yourself killed out there. Please try to come back in one piece.

I haven't really made any decisions yet. I'm thinking about a few different options at the moment.  
I'll be thinking of you.

Riza


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Riza,

I haven't broken my watch yet, actually. It's been almost six weeks since I got it. It seems I've grown up a bit.

I promise I'm being as careful as I can be. I've got this far without being injured apart from a few bruises. The other Alchemists were right. I'm attached to a troop of quite experienced soldiers and they're keeping me out of trouble. They're almost as good at looking after me as you are, but they aren't as pretty as you.

I've managed to make a few friends here. Major Armstrong is another State Alchemist. He's the biggest man I've ever seen. His bicep is thicker than my thigh. He's a gentle giant though. You'd like him. Private Hughes and I have gotten quite close. The guy never stops talking about his girlfriend back home – he's always flashing her picture or re-reading one of her letters. I think her name's Gracia – I tend to tune out when he starts going on about her. She sent an apple pie last week. It made me realise how much I miss your cooking.

You wouldn't believe all the places the sand gets to out here, Riza. No matter how tightly I lace my boots I'm always pouring sand out off them at the end of the day.  
I'll be thinking about you, too. Write soon,

Roy


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Roy,

I'm glad to hear that you're still in one piece. It's a relief to hear you have people looking out for you.

I never thought I'd hear the day you said you missed my cooking. All those years spent complaining about how boring it was and now you want more of it! How times change.  
I  
've sold most of Father's books. A letter came from one of the big libraries in Central a few weeks ago. I kept a few I thought you might like, but the rest have gone off to Central. I think it's one of the State Libraries, so you'll still be able to visit them if I accidentally sold one of your favourites.

I find it hard to believe you haven't broken your watch in six weeks. What have you done with it? Wrapped it in tissue paper and kept it in a drawer?

Riza  
P.S. I hope you like the package I'm sending with this letter.


	5. Chapter 5

Dearest, darling Riza

You're an angel. The biscuits tasted like heaven. And how did you know I'd need more socks?

I'm afraid my watch record has been broken. I fell on it the other day. I managed seven weeks and five days. Five days! That's practically two months! I hope you're proud of me.

I'm not surprised someone wrote to you about the books. Your father had a very impressive collection. I'm sure you'll have managed to keep all of my favourites, but if not, the watch doesn't have to work to get me into the library.

I miss you a lot Riza. There's no one out here with a sense of humour quite like yours. Maes (Private Hughes) seems to have got it into his head that tells me to say hello from him. I let him have a biscuit and he says your cooking is almost as good as Gracia's.

It's heading towards summer now. Are you going to the fete this year? You'll have to write and tell me about it. I wish I was going. Normal life seems so far away here in the desert. I'll stop writing now before I get too melancholy. Write soon, Riza.

Roy


	6. Chapter 6

Dear Roy

It seems the way to a man's heart really is through his stomach. I'm glad you enjoyed the biscuits. I knew about the socks because you always need more socks, you idiot. I've never met anyone who wears holes in their socks as fast as you do. It must be a special talent of yours.

Tell your friend hello from me. I'm surprised you shared the biscuits. You always used to hoard them like the dragons in fairy tales hoarded gold.

What did you fall over when you broke your watch? Did you trip over your boots again? I remember once you came home late, fell over your boots and cracked your head on the stairs. I found you there the next morning still unconscious with a huge bruise on your forehead. I thought soldiers were meant to be more graceful than that.

Yes I'm going to the fete. It's next Saturday. And yes, I'll write and tell you about it. It won't be quite the same without you here though. I've gotten used to you begging me for candy floss over the past few years. Keep your spirits up Roy. The war can't go on for much longer and then you can come home.

I got a letter from your Aunt Chris the other day. She wants me to tell you you should write more often. Apparently once every three weeks is not often enough for your sisters. She says they're driving her up the wall. Really, Roy, what's gotten into you? You used to spend every Sunday afternoon writing to them.

Try not to ruin the new socks too quickly.

Riza


	7. Chapter 7

Dear Riza

Armstrong saw how I started my last letter. He gave me an hour long lecture on courting techniques. I think my brain melted halfway through. Maes has been insufferable as well. He's convinced I need to get myself a girlfriend and won't take no for an answer. How did I end up stuck in a desert with these lunatics, Riza?

Yes I remember waking up on the stairs that morning. You got so worried and then once you realised I was fine you gave me such a tongue lashing. I think you called me a "bumbling buffoon" and a "weasel faced idiot" among other things. I never realised how creative you could be with your insults until then. And I'd like to point out I'm not weasel faced. I'm much better looking than a weasel and you know it!

I am writing more than once every three weeks to the girls, I promise. But the mail run here is slow, so it just seems longer. I've written again and told them to stop panicking over me. Apparently my lady killer skills haven't dulled in the slightest if they only need three weeks to convince themselves I'm laying in a hospital bed somewhere.

If you really need someone nagging you for candy floss to enjoy the fair, I'm sure that kid down the street – was he called Daniel? – would be happy to oblige. Do you remember when he ate so much he threw up? Have fun at the fete Riza. For both of us.

I've got to go now. I have a patrol.

Roy  
P.S. This is Maes. Roy really likes you!


	8. Chapter 8

Dear Roy

I went to the fete. They had the Ferris Wheel again this year. Mrs Jones won the jam competition. It must be the tenth year running – I'm sending a jar with this letter. Hopefully it'll arrive in one piece.

James Abbot won the strong man competition. I hope you're not too disappointed you lost your title to him. The sheep shearing was a disaster. Someone left a gate open and all the sheep stampeded down the high street! It took them almost two hours to round them up again. I got asked about you a lot. Everyone hopes that you're doing ok out there.

Really, Roy, I'm sure your friends aren't that eccentric. And if you're going to call me "dearest darling Riza" then you have no right to be surprised when someone takes it the wrong way, you dummy.

You're out there because you want to use the military to help people, remember? I know it can't be nice out there, but hang tight and you'll make it out the other end. You have to – you're not allowed to die on me Mister Mustang.

As for your face, I'm afraid I'm undecided. I never thought you were as handsome as the other girls did – they never had to live with you! Maybe you could come visit next time you have some leave, so I can decide how weasel faced you are. Your lady killer skills only exist in your head. Of course your sisters are worried about you – they're family.

I hope you're ok, Roy. Enjoy the jam.

Riza


	9. Chapter 9

Dear Riza

There's a reason Mrs Jones always wins. Her jam is delicious. Thanks for sending me a jar – it livened up my breakfast. And yes, Riza, my friends really are that eccentric. I'll introduce you one day so you can see for yourself. I'm sure you'll agree with me.

Did the sheep really stampede the high street? That must've been entertaining. I imagine old man Barker was furious though – he loves those sheep even more than he loves his pipe. Tell everyone thanks for thinking about me and that I'm fine. I've been lucky so far – I can't tell you how many times my alchemy has saved my life or the life of one of the guys in my unit. I promise you, I've got no plans on dying just yet.

Riza, must you insult me in every letter? I used to look forward to those envelopes, but now I open them with a wince – first I'm an idiot, then I'm a dummy and then you tell me my lady killer skills are only in my head. Oh ye of little faith! I'll be sure to visit you as soon as I get leave, if only so I can persuade you of my handsomeness. We both know you'll cave in and admit how gorgeous I am.

* * *

Dear Riza

Please don't panic, but Roy's patrol got hit last week. He's mostly ok, but he has a broken arm so he can't write to you himself and is generally a bit battered. He's in the hospital tent right now, no doubt flirting with the nurses.

Roy asked me to send you what he'd written and explain. For some reason he doesn't trust me to scribe for him – probably that PS I added. By the way, did you know he hides your letters? I didn't see hide or hair of them when I was in his tent, until I looked under the mattress.

So basically, don't worry, he'll be fine in a few weeks.

Maes Hughes  
P.S. Don't cave – his head is big enough as it is and he really isn't that good looking.


	10. Chapter 10

Dear Mr Hughes

Thank you for your letter. I must admit I was beginning to get worried. I have no intention of telling Major Mustang he's handsome, so there's no need to worry about him getting even more big-headed.

Riza Hawkeye

* * *

Dear Roy

You idiot. I hope you weren't being reckless when you got injured. I'm slightly disappointed it took you an entire week to realise I'd be worrying about you. It seems ironic you get injured when your letter says how often Flame Alchemy has saved your life. Your friend said you'd be fine in a few weeks, so hopefully you're feeling better by now.

I think you've forgotten how stubborn I am, Roy if you think you can persuade me to call you gorgeous. Unless you've changed an awful lot, there's no chance. I'm afraid I'm going to have to disagree with you again. Mr Hughes didn't seem eccentric in the slightest when he wrote to me.

I've finally decided what I'm going to do next Roy. Sadly, I don't think I'm going to be able to get any of your letters for the next few months. If you need to, write to this address – I'm going to have my mail forwarded.

I won't tell you what I've decided because I'm not sure you'll approve and I'm not going to have you waste space trying to talk me out of it.  
Get well soon, Roy. I'll be thinking of you.

Riza


	11. Chapter 11

Dear Riza

What do you mean you aren't going to tell me? Why not – what on earth are you planning? You better not be getting married to that idiot Taylor, Riza. If you are then I'm deserting to come get you.

I think I'm going to miss your letters Riza. They always make me smile, even when you insult me.

No, I wasn't being reckless when I got injured. I wasn't even injured that badly, so there's no need for you to start panicking. I'm almost fully healed now. I've been told I'm back on active duty in ten days. And yes, I'll be more careful this time, I promise.

When Maes wrote to you, did he say anything? The idiot's been really smug lately and I'm sure he searched my tent when I asked him to send the letter for me. I'm sorry it wasn't finished. He must've put something eccentric in the letter – re-read it Riza. The guy's mad as a hatter sometimes.

Of course I haven't forgotten how stubborn you are, Riza. I'd need a really hard knock on the head for that to happen. But even you can't keep denying a universal truth. You'll admit it one day, trust me.

Come on, Riza, we've never had secrets except that one. You used to tell me everything – what are you planning that's so drastic? If you tell me, I might approve of it. You've always been so sensible; it's hard to imagine you doing anything that stupid.

I meant it about that Taylor boy, Riza. You better write back telling me you aren't marrying him or I will run off to crash the wedding.

Roy


	12. Chapter 12

Dear Roy

Of course I'm not marrying Brad Taylor! What kind of girl do you think I am? I can barely put up with him on a good day. Did you lose a few IQ points when your patrol was attacked? Just because he asked me out a few times doesn't mean I'm going to get married as soon as you're gone.

Don't you dare desert before this gets to you. If you do, I'll skin you myself.

I wasn't panicking over you Roy. I was simply concerned, that's all. I hope you are more careful. I don't want any more letters from your friend Maes telling me you're in hospital chatting up the nurses.

I'm not going to tell you my plan yet, Roy. You'll probably find out before long anyway. This is going to stay a secret for now. Don't let it distract you from staying alive, Roy.

This is probably the last letter you'll get from me for a while, so good luck, be careful and try to stay in one piece.

Riza


End file.
